The Heiress of Mcgregor by Lucy Ellen Guernsey

MARION slept late in the morning, and when she waked it was a minute or two before she knew where she was. The house was very still. She could hear birds singing and chickens cackling and crowing as if she were at home, but the room was a very different one from that she had called hers so long in the old McGregor house at Holford. It was much larger and higher, for one thing. There were two windows hung with pretty muslin curtains. The walls were covered with cheerful paper and the floor with fine checked India matting such as Marion had admired on Kitty Tremaine's floor in Holford. The furniture was of solid black walnut, mostly new, but with an old-fashioned bit here and there, such as a large mirror in a gilt frame, over the tall mantel-piece, and a pretty little workstand with brass trimmings. Altogether it was pretty as any room Marion had ever seen, and certainly as different as possible from the lodging which she had imagined herself occupying.

There was no need even of the scrap-bag and mats which she had already begun, for a very pretty bag hung by the side of the dressing-table and the blue and white china on the wash-stand was abundantly supplied with braided mats. Marion felt positively disappointed. She looked at her watch. It was past eight. She hastened to rise and dress herself. She found her dressing-table supplied with a new set of toilet articles, the nicest she had ever possessed.